'Perfect, boy, perfect..'� Michael's father, or 'Coach Miller'� as he was to be called at school, barked at him. Michael concentrated on the round, orange ball being hurled at him as fast as he could throw it back. Faster he tossed it but faster it returned. His arms were growing weary and each pass he released got weaker. It was almost too much for him to raise his skinny arms to receive the next one. But he couldn't quit. Not now. Not in front of his father, eh, coach.
Then it happened. One pass from his partner sailed a bit higher and his slowed reactions were no longer enough. The heavy basketball caught him in the forehead and sent him sprawling backwards landing with a heavy thud on the gymnasium floor. The whistle blew and everyone stopped. He heard a few children laughing.
The mountainous figure of his father loomed over him now. It seemed as if his shadow alone devoured Michael. Coach Miller leaned down looking very sternly at the black-haired boy.
'If you want your name on that list,'� His father pointed to a large banner that hung in the rafters of the gymnasium, 'You have to learn to actually catch the ball.'� Amazing enough, Michael noticed his father's finger pointed directly at his own name, etched among the other names of the 1978 State Championship team. The only state championship the school ever won. His father extended his hand to help the boy up but Michael angrily slapped it away and rose to his feet himself.
He picked up the basketball from the gym floor and resumed his spot once more. It took him a moment but he noticed the other children had grown quiet. He peeked over his shoulder and saw his father's face growing dangerously red. Michael knew he was angry but right now he didn't care.
'Michael!'� His father's voice boomed throughout the entire gym. Michael didn't turn to face the large man. 'Michael Miller,'� his father bellowed once more. Still Michael refused to acknowledge. He jumped a bit as the whistle was blown unexpectedly. 'Alright. Hit the shower boy.'�
'Hit this.'� Without hesitation, without warning, or without thinking of the consequences of his actions, Michael turned and launched the orange ball at the six foot, five inch monster. A deafening pop was heard through what seemed like the entire school as the ball hit its target and the giant came tumbling down.
Michael was both scared and angry at the site but in a matter of seconds the anger helped dissolve the fear. He did as the coach asked. He showered and left the gym. During his exit he noticed the nurse was now assisting his disoriented father. He felt sorry for a second but just a second. To his surprise the silence grew to cheers from the other students. Michael didn't do as many would have done and acknowledge or accept the unnecessary admiration. He did what was right. He quit the basketball team.

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